Tobacco - Maniac Meat Album Review

For www.catchthesonics.com

By Ryan Pilot

Meat is the word. This record is thickly layered with meaty, big, dirty synth sounds. Deep, distorted, motorised whirrings grate across the entire album like speeding cars, driven by big, gritty hip-hop beats.

‘Maniac Meat’ follows Tobacco’s 2006 debut album Fucked Up Friends and it grinds straight into life in fifth gear, with ‘Constellation Dirtbike Headache.’ Rumbling, distorted rock ‘n’ roll bass and a synthesised motor melt into modulated, laid back vocals over trashy drums and you are instantly seduced by the lead synth hook. You can hear the dirtbike revving throughout, which somehow comes out of a human mouth midway through.

Guest vocalist Beck reels through imagery on ‘Fresh Hex,’ like experimental Jewish hip-hoppers Clouddead. He flows over hip-hop beats and synth bleeps that wouldn’t sound out of place on one of electronica twiddler Clarke’s records.

‘Mexican Icecream’ offers a creepy juxtaposition between angelic, childlike “do do dos” and Ladytronesque harmonised, male vocals worshipping the Sabbath, singing, “You are the favourite day / I’ll bring the sun to you,” over an electro beat. ‘Sweatmother,’ a sparser affair than the rest, refreshes the ears with high pitched high hats, 90s power-rock drums and whispered vocals to a Robot Rock-style guitar riff.

‘Unholy Demon Rhythms’ pumps some life back into the album, after a brief lull, with a drum fill. The bass drum rumbles like the Devil’s stomach ache while the tom-tom whips like the Devil’s spitting as deep detuned synths claw their way upwards from hell.

On ‘TV All Greasy,’ the rushed, clumsy kick drum beats like an irregular heartbeat, laced with stressed out synths. ‘Creepy Phone Calls’ concludes the album, a ghostly hook drops in unexpected and demands you pay attention. A real stand-out track, it sounds like The Stone Roses being playfully abused by a bored digital demon-kitten.

Tobacco has created a creepy, catchy, glitchy, filthy violent attack of a record which delights and stimulates the ear and confuses the pulse.

The Chapman Family: The Sound of the North East

For www.WoodenCauliflower.com

By Ryan Pilot

The Chapman Family intend to knock some sense into the overcrowded, watered down indie web that currently clogs up the ears of the kids today. Having played a successful set at Glastonbury, and landing a place on the current NME Radar Tour with electro-pop overnight success La Roux, the band are already penetrating the musical consciousness of the country with their scratchy, noisy post-punk poetry.

On stage, front man Kingsley's persona is enigmatic; he is at once uncomfortable and confident. He has a powerful presence and yet appears introverted, with an arm covering his eyes when it is not busy combing his guitar strings as he punches out deep, anxious vocals. It is as if he is apologetic for what he has to say, however much he believes in it, as if it will offend his audience.

“[The Chapman Family are] trying to react against the general apathy of people who don't necessarily recognise that the country's going to shit,” says Kingsley. “No one seems to care but everyone sort of seems to enjoy listening to The Hoosiers telling us everything's all right, or The View telling us to go out and have a party ... You're never going to get us singing songs about going down an indie disco and fannying on with a girl and taking her home ... there's always going to be us fighting against something.”

Kingsley started to form The Chapman Family in 2005 when he and guitarist Paul, whose attic he had been living in, started playing music together as a reaction to the derivative touring indie bands that they saw each week in their home town of Stockton.

“Everyone else was ripping off The Libertines and everyone else is singing in cockney accents, even though they're from South Bank [a Middlesbrough council estate], which is just ridiculous,” says Kingsley. “Or you'd get touring bands come in and they were just shit, every single one of them, just shit.”

Stockton is a Teesside town full of people with little ambition, where someone with bigger ideas can get easily frustrated with those around them. With Joy Division-inspired bass lines, jerky guitars and desperate vocals, the music of The Chapman Family conveys the frustration with apathy that Kingsley has.

“I think people in Teesside are really insular and think that we're up against the World,” says Kingsley. “But ... with going to other various towns and cities throughout the country [I've seen that] it's exactly the same as everywhere else.”

Kingsley spent four years away from Teesside at Sheffield Hallam University studying fine art before forming The Chapman Family and he now works at the Middlesbrough Institute of Modern Art. However, he makes it clear that this is no pretentious arty-farty band that he is in.

“I started out and I wanted to paint, I wanted to be an abstract expressionist, but soon realised that I was pretty shit at it, so tried my hand at video and performance art and stuff so there's probably an element of that that came through,” Kingsley explains.

“We're not like art-rock like the Yeah Yeah Yeahs are art-rock ... I don't think the band is an art project. I think it's a rock band and it's separate,” says Kingsley. “But if you bring elements of what you've learnt from art school ... you get influenced by everything up until that point in your life when you are sitting down and writing a song.”

Perhaps then, the awkwardness in Kingsley's stage persona comes from a fear of appearing pretentious. He sings, with his north-east accent, lines such as 'you are not impressing anyone' on 'You Are Not Me' which come across as an attack on the shallow bands that are trying to be another self-indulgent, fashionable London export. Kingsley is a North-easterner through and through and would not entertain the idea of moving to London for the band's sake.

“I enjoy being from the north east of England,” Kingsley says, but admits it would be easier and quicker to do well in the capital: “The NME reviewer can go and see you on a Wednesday as opposed to like waiting three months for him to go and see you ... Yeah it'd be dead easy if you went down to London but I don't see the point because I think the music that we make, the songs that we do have to have some sort of identity and have to have some sort of northern identity. I think you've got to be honest to where you're from ... If you went to London you'd be polluted by the effects of living in London and crappy city life, whereas here you can sort of do your thing ... you're not gonna wanna try and get into some crappy little scene that celebrates itself.”

Kinsley's frustration about the apathy of people, about the “lack of revolutionary spirit” as he put it, is of course not directed exclusively at those from his home town, but nationwide. We are in a time of great change, America has a black president, we are damaging the planet dramatically, the internet is evolving , expanding communication methods and of course we are in a recession.

“In every recession or every sort of bad time something good comes out of it,” explains Kingsley. “So you had like acid house and grunge and Madchester and all that shit came out of the arse end of the Tory government. Then you had the punk rock movement or new wave or whatever out of the bleakness of the seventies. And then you got Elvis and rock n roll out of the depression. But now that we're in the shit perhaps something should happen. But I dunno, I think the general consensus with the public is that they don't care, they really couldn't care less because they'd prefer to go and watch The Feeling tell them that everything is all right.”

The Chapman Family play Evolution Festival in Newcastle on 24^th May.

www.myspace.com/thechapmanfamily

Gig review: Saint and the Cynics / The Lurchers at the Head of Steam, Newcastle

Written for www.WoodenCauliflower.com

By Ryan Pilot

A clash between the artistic nihilistic noise-lovers The Lurchers and the highly polished, tightly delivered soul-funkers Saint and the Cynics occurred two weeks ago at the Head of Steam. Both fought their corner well and it’s hard to say who came out victorious. Then again, that’s not the point of a gig, is it?

The Lurchers have got a cool sound that comes from a mix of influences; you can get on the dancefloor and have a good thrash around to their songs, or simply appreciate them for their craftsmanship.

Front man Paul looked like a bit of an artrocker; with his black glasses, his bequiffed bonnet and his sharp dressing. His appearance seemed to promise some sort of spectacular, theatrical Nick Cave-style performance but he disappointingly never allowed himself to indulge in one. He contrasted with his band mates, who looked more like rockers than he, and apparently are. One guitarist laid a solid rock foundation and sported a moustache and mullet while the other delicately added a noisier guitar layer to loosen up the sound.

These two guitarists created diversity and built an interesting and creative set of songs, which were compiled of a variety of styles; including angular, awkward-sounding riffs akin to At The Drive In to droning trippy Queens of the Stone Age inspired rock grooves and even the tight rhythmic guitar elements of The Strokes.

Paul’s vocals flowed smoothly and blended with the voices of the instruments behind him. He was Thom Yorke at times, but mostly Josh Homme. In fact as the set went on the whole band become a bit too Queens of The Stone Age. They seemed to give up on their own creativity and lay back on rock conventions and formulaic QOTSA song patterns, which was a shame. Paul’s vocals did sound nicer in the second half though in a higher pitch, and it was a shame that mulleted guitarist Kenny’s microphone was not working so that the audience could hear his harmonising.

The Lurchers are a talented, thoughtful band, with an artistic and potentially highly original sound. But they should focus on the more creative and original writing that they are clearly capable of to become a truly head-turning outfit.

Saint and the Cynics have two of the best dressed front women you’re likely to see. They look like perfect soul divas, with sequined dresses and outrageously thick eyelashes. They’ve got spectacular voices too, which soar and quiver up and down scales harmoniously with confidence and ease.

The band have some very catchy numbers; all soul and funk based, with a little bit of rock edge at times. They know all the conventions and exploit them aptly to produce hooks aplenty pop songs that could probably penetrate the charts given the right vehicle. The confidence and competence of all the musicians shines with professionalism, which sort of makes you wonder why they’re playing this sort of gig.

Saint and the Cynics would be the perfect summer festival band and a great party band, but they’re a bit too good and a bit too polished to be playing gigs at The Head of Steam with grittier alternative bands. They’re almost certainly all music or performing arts students and it’s a bit cringe worthy when their straight-laced looking guitarist tries to pull of some rock moves during the heavier moments of the set.

Saint and the Cynics are great to watch and have a dance to and you may get one or two songs stuck in your head. If they get any outdoor festival dates this summer then make sure you’re there, in the sunshine with a cold pint of cider for a good bop. If you want an edgier, diverse and dirtier band, then get to a Lurchers gig.

End note: Although these ‘edgy’ bands don’t seem to get many gigs booked in comparison to these ‘professional’ ones. Check their Myspace pages:
www.myspace.com/saintandthecynics
www.myspace.com/thelurchers

The Jazz Man of Newcastle

Written for http://www.woodencauliflower.com/

Link: http://www.woodencauliflowerblog.com/2009/02/jazz-man-of-newcastle.html

By Ryan Pilot

A unique venue, ran by a unique character, Keith’s Cromby’s Jazz Cafe on Pink Lane is a jewel amongst the soulless pubs and bars of Newcastle City Centre.

Cromby is known affectionately as The Jazz Man by locals. He can be seen flyering around the universities everyday to attract the “decent people” of Newcastle as he puts it.

“We don’t let the shit in,” explains Keith, sitting behind his empty soup bowl. In front of him is the small, modest main room of the cafe. There is a bar to the left. Tables line the edges of the room, adorned with oil lamps. There is a small stage area towards the rear beside an upright piano. It is intimate and homely. The place is dim because all of the curtains are closed, which is a tactic to deter undesirables.

“The only criteria here is they’ve got to be reasonable people…no trouble causers…there’s the odd one that gets through the net. But not many,” says Keith. And there is a good mix of reasonable people that visit the venue each evening when it opens around eight. They come to enjoy the live Jazz, the intimate atmosphere, conversation and a relaxing drink.

The Jazz Man speaks and moves slowly, he has a long, white beard. He is now 68 years old, “I know you thought I was older,” he says.

Cromby worked in Jazz Cafes in the 1960s when he was in his twenties, including Newcastle’s Downbeat. Downbeat’s then owner Mike Geoffreys opened The Donkey Club in 1963 in Paris, which at the time was a haven for African-Americans who wanted to flee the discrimination and horrors of pre-civil rights America. Black Jazz musicians were in all the Parisian Cafes, including Louis Armstrong and Miles Davies. “What a time ey?” Keith wistfully says, with the most enthusiasm expressed during the interview.

The Jazz cafe is popular among students. The Jazz Man is often at Newcastle University for his lunch, he clearly enjoys their company and custom at his cafe, but, as with all people, he has strong opinions on some of them.

“I would say the students are not as sophisticated as what they were. They’re sophisticated in one way, in regards to bloody cocktails, funny drinks…they’ve got no depth. Scratch the surface and there’s not much underneath,” Keith says. “There are some bright kids that come in here mind…witty, bright clever lads and clever girls.”

The Jazz Man is a strong-minded, independent character. He can appear blunt and even rude, but in conversation he is warm, kind and friendly. Keith has worked as a mechanic, fixing old Jaguars and has been a second hand dealer. “I’ve never made any money, but on the other hand I’ve always enjoyed doing what I was doing,” he reflects.

The Jazz Cafe is very much a product of Cromby. It makes little money and runs up a lot of debt. But it’s what he wants to do and is perhaps the only place of its kind left in Newcastle. It is Cromby’s disregard for profit which keeps it going and which makes it so special.

Keith is now winding down and does not intend to continue to run the cafe for much longer. “I’m getting too old. I’m getting too decrepit. The old bones y’know,” he says.“It’s a funny little place this. Like a drug. There’s nowhere like it in the world, I’ve been assured by people who’ve been further than I have,” says Keith, who then pauses before laughing and adding: “But it doesn’t seem to be what people want.”